


Found the Place to Rest My Head

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: All she longed to do was make him smile.





	Found the Place to Rest My Head

Nightmares robbed her of sleep. Rinoa jerked awake with a hitch in her throat and nothing more. The twisted images greeting her at night were not what she loathed the most, though; it was the pained cries beside her.

Rinoa always jolted upright, her heart racing faster than in any of her dreams, and did well to jerk him out of his nightmare and back to reality. She never succeeded the first try, but eventually those blue eyes flashed to her, usually accompanied by tears.

For all the horrific visages that accompanied her at night, the nightmares never tormented her like they did for Squall.

She held him in those witching hours. Sometimes he’d nod off while clinging to her, flinching on and off from the fear of daring to attempt sleep. And when he found comfort in sleep, Rinoa smoothed a hand over his hair and kissed his forehead.

There was more she wished to do than stay beside him in the night. No spell conjured could cure him of the darkness which lingered in his mind. All he asked of her was to not run away and leave him behind. How could she? He promised long ago to stay beside her regardless if the world was against them. The sentiment was mutual in her mind.

Though an idea crossed her mind when the blue hue of twilight filled the room. Squall nestled into a pile of blankets and pillows, sound asleep after another terror robbed him of a peaceful night. A smile danced along Rinoa’s lips before she kissed his temple and scurried out of bed.

Bare feet trod on cold, hardwood floors. Rinoa slipped on a bathrobe halfway to the kitchen, navigating through the darkness until her fingers found a switch. The overhead lights flickered to life. Trailing behind her was Angelo, yawning and stretching. The dog tilted her head at Rinoa, as if curious to her owner’s intentions so early in the morning.

Rinoa peeked over her shoulder after grinding up coffee beans. “Hey there!” she said softly. Dropping down to the floor, Rinoa scritched behind Angelo’s ears. “We’re going to make something special for Squall! How does that sound?”

Angelo let out a quiet _boof_ as Rinoa bounced back to her feet to tend to the kitchen.

The coffee she could do. It was Squall’s favorite, even if he preferred it black. The very thought left Rinoa flicking out her tongue in disgust, but still she prepped it. If it was enough to bring a smile to his face, then it was enough for her to make it.

After attacking the fridge, she gathered half a carton of eggs, cream, butter, bacon, and berries she forgot she had picked up from the other day. From the cupboards, she fell upon pancake mix. She giggled as ideas popped into her head. With the assortment of yummy ingredients spread across the counter, all that was left to do was cook it all up.

That... wasn’t so hard, right?

The most Rinoa had ever experienced with cooking was late nights with Zone and Watts when everything else was closed. The experiments crafted in the kitchens were nothing to write home about, but they were memorable. And edible—perhaps the most important part. And the pancake mix had instructions and what could go wrong with cooking eggs and bacon?

Apparently a lot.

The bacon took longer to cook than everything else. The first batch of pancakes was pale in comparison to the nearly burnt ones directly after. The eggs stuck more to the pan than she thought they would. But before she could admit defeat, Angelo bumped her nose into Rinoa’s side and nuzzled into her until a smile returned to Rinoa’s face.

_Mom used to make this look so easy,_ Rinoa thought. _Geez, I had the easy part—lick the bowl when she was done. I_ _’ll be lucky if any of this is edible._

And she managed to finish, filling two plates with breakfast food. Hopefully yummy breakfast food. At least she got the coffee right. She paired the piping hot mug next to one of the plates and a glass of orange juice next to the other. With a heavy sigh, Rinoa smiled over her accomplishment and carried it on back to the bedroom.

Squall stayed in bed, sound asleep—hopefully a dreamless sleep. Guilt poured over Rinoa as she sat on the edge of the bed with the tray in hand. Maybe it was best if he slept, but then the food would go cold. Pouting, she nudged his foot until his eyes opened.

He groaned and shifted in place. “What?”

Wiggling and smiling, Rinoa position the tray beside him. “I made you a little something.”

Squall yawned, yet peeked down to investigate what Rinoa brought him. The silence left Rinoa fidgeting. Did he like it? Did he not care for it? Did he just want to go back to sleep?

Then his eyes sought out Rinoa’s. “You make this?”

“Y-yeah,” Rinoa said, hands smoothing over one another. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it. I just wanted to—”

But Squall already took a stab at a pancake and shoved it into his mouth. Chewing slowly, his eyes lit up. “Not bad,” he said with a full mouth.

Rinoa chuckled and perched a fist on her hip. “Are you saying that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” And he took another piece of pancake into his mouth.

To that, Rinoa glowed. “I... thought it would be something nice. You know, with the lack of sleep and all.”

Squall looked over the breakfast again, then smiled up at Rinoa. “It’s perfect.”

She snorted. “Feels _pretty far_ from perfect—”

“Well, it’s perfect to _me_. That’s all I care about.”

He placed his fork down to curl his fingers at her. Heat rushed to her face as she scooted closer, knowing exactly what would happen next. Squall wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. Their foreheads met, their noses bumped, and their eyes never flicked away.

And Angelo jumped upon the bed to lick at Squall’s lips.

Rinoa flailed and lectured her dog while Squall tried to push the damn, slobbering mess away and wipe his face clean. Though in the wake of Angelo’s departure, she bent down to snap at bacon on one of the plates and ran off.

“Hey!” Rinoa called out. “That was _my_ share of bacon! Come back—”

Before Rinoa could leap out of bed to chase her dog around, Squall yanked her into him. Rinoa squeaked and fluttered her eyes, finding a strip of bacon dangling before her.

“Here,” Squall said. “You worked hard enough.”

“But, that’s _your_ —”

“And it would make me happy if you enjoyed it.”

She scrunched up her face in defiance, only to snatch it out of his hands with her teeth. Munching away, she hummed over the texture and flavor, happy she didn’t actually burn it. By the time she swallowed, fingers tilted her chin up and lips closed over hers. The drawn-out kiss tasted even better.

“Thank you,” Squall murmured against her.

Rinoa giggled, nuzzling further into his face. “Anytime.”


End file.
